


Lariat-like Inclination

by AWriterNamedClora



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Logan x Thomas if you squint but it's optional by all means, a little profanity :), also a little longer so woo for small victories?- 😂✊🎉, just another little ficlet thing, oh yeah uh kinda angsty btw minor apologies lol-, so short you may as well check out?- XD.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26795308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWriterNamedClora/pseuds/AWriterNamedClora
Summary: Setting:An unsettled/restless Logan in a taxi on the way to his workplace during a cold late-year morning (..and no, he didn't sleep at *all* in this nor have I- writing gods please bless my bad on-the-fly narrative- XD)+also finally using my own tags for once, woah-
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders/Thomas Sanders
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Lariat-like Inclination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PumpkinSpicedLattes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpicedLattes/gifts).



> A little different from my last one, hope you enjoy! :)

[ Raindrops. Replicating sugarcubes half- _drenched_ in oil, delicately raced until the Earth's trickling tears _united_ and _crosshatched_ each other, interlacing and falling to compose a monochromatic winter's breathtaking simplicity; a frozen double-helix of _sparkling_ dna that would put the absolute _best_ of summertime lemonade or celebratory champagne to shame. ]

[ Well, it was positively freezing, but an announcing sight all the less that at least for a moment, ceased his cordovan-oxfords' relentless irregular tap-dance. ]

~[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]~

He was suddenly recalled to an arguably cliché (yet it gave him a morning aura of _peace)_ childhood scenario, a young Thomas surrounded by numerous _menacingly mocking ivory towers…_

..Compiled of nursery building blocks. 

Logan steadied his audibly shaking breaths. Inhale, exhale. Simple!

_Slowly,_ a somewhat rhythmic rise began to stir amongst his _thumping_ chest; he felt as if his ribcage were as uncertain as those stacked objects of infancy. 

Common physics and any hope of outward normalcy _surmounted_ him in this defying brief passage of time, which earned Logan a few quick eye-dashes _directly_ from the driver's rear-view mirror. **_Shit._ **

_Rapidly snapping back into focus,_ the world stopped shaking _just_ long enough for him to realize--

_"Oh. Of course, my apologies."_ It was an ~~**evident cry for** **_help,_ ** **why could no-one** **_fucking see that_**~~ idiotic passing thought in the first place; _sympathy_ was _irrelevant_ and _highly distracting--_ ~~**and even if he** **_did_ ** **get what he so desired, he'd only feel even** **_worse about himself, and_ ** **his spec-worthy existence; "impacting"** **_someone_ ** **or some** **_thing_ ** **was a** **_purely_ ** **comprised-of-melancholy laughable fantasy at** **_best!_ ** **Not to** **_mention_ ** **the** **_painfully formidable_ ** **end** **_result-_**~~

~~**_Surely_ ** **without Logan they were** **_nothing, right?_ **~~

~~**_Without Thomas he was nothing._ ** ~~

~~_Without Logan, Thomas was-_ ~~

Gritting his teeth behind _pursed lips,_ an _additional fallacy in the face of his semi-professional faux "prim & properly" suited attire, he paid the $7·40 fare attempting to reinstate his crumbling, barely collected state from mere minutes before, and dutifully as rehearsed, stepped outside the Floridan taxi now dimmed from mist._

Acutely swiping back his cowlick, _despite how it would *inevitably* spring back into place to annoy him as always-_

Rubbing his eyes for good measure, _even though everyone would see his fatigue *eventually* if not upon the instant-_

and as per routine, _resettling_ his dark Warby-Parker's; he inhaled the teeth-chattering cold morning air that tasted like a wintry night. This was going to be an _arduous hell_ of a _day_ , once again.

~[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]~

_In a world that's always revolving, it was the shadowed-workerbee, who on the constant, continued to trail behind the morning sun. Daylight wasn't going to 'wait up' for the likes of Logan, yet he equally loathed and loved the universal cut- &-dry rush-attitudes of Earth._

_It was the only thing faintly tying time together, no matter how tight the ropes around his fate were to be._

So he thanked it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for deciding to read this! 😄✊👌 (unless you're on an utterly *desperate* "2AM-Logan-Sanders-angst-crawl" in which honestly, fair enough all the same lol- 😅😂✌)


End file.
